It’s an out-of-this world week for me, as I’ve released my latest story: Wytchfire. You have a chance to win it, or my scifi/romance novel, Dementional, as part of this bloghop. To whet your appetite, here’s a snippet:

All these clues pointed to either a long-term hotel stay—or something more institutional… Maybe she was crazy and this was how she was being treated?

She felt logical. She didn’t think she had any delusions. She had undertaken a rational inventory. So what had happened to her memory?

Her face could be a clue; she stared into the mirror after she flushed the toilet. Her skin was clear and fair. Her brown hair was cut short, in a stylish pixie. Her eyes were not bloodshot, although the brown irises meant she was of a common genetic phenotype. The bridge of her nose looked lumpy enough to point to a broken past. She opened her mouth wide; did she have any distinctive dental features that might help recover her identity?

How did she even know people could check dental records to confirm an individual’s existence? Her brain felt like Swiss cheese. It was time to do a more exhaustive inventory of what was in her room to see whether there were any clues to who she might be.

An hour later, she had neat piles of maternity shirts, pants, sweaters, jackets, and underwear on one side of the bed, while the other held a few romance novels with heroines looking almost as busty as she was stacked next to a small selection of children’s books.

She was as much of a mystery to herself as she’d ever been. Who was this woman who seemed to have Ann Klein-style taste in clothing, insipid reading material, and no other indication of identity?